


What Love Feels Like

by CCs_World



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Based on Personal Experiences, Canon-typical swearing, Chapter One is Hurt, Chapter Two is Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Physical Abuse, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-01-15 22:08:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12329838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CCs_World/pseuds/CCs_World
Summary: Taako doesn't know what love is supposed to feel like.Enter Sazed.When the tiefling enters his life, Taako thinks that this is what love is supposed to feel like. Maybe it's supposed to hurt. Maybe it's supposed to be angry. Maybe it's supposed to conflict.He's wrong.When Sazed exits his life, another steps in.With Kravitz, Taako begins to heal.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I mostly just wrote this fic so I could vent about my own personal experiences but it turned into something pretty good in a literary sense so I've decided to share it. I tried to keep Taako in character but I've projected myself onto him a lot.  
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ THE TAGS BEFORE DIVING INTO THE FIC.

“...And just stick that li’l fucker in the oven,” Taako says, demonstrating as he slides the lasagne into the oven. “Now, I have a finished one here, so I’ll serve up samples now for anyone who wants it.”

The crowd applauds and converges upon Taako’s little wagon as the elf cuts small slices from the fresh, steaming pasta and passes them out.

He’s been doing this for a little more than a month now and he’s gained some fame in the region, but he’s thinking of taking it farther. His crowds are currently rather small but he’s hoping that with some clever advertising he can make Sizzle It Up! grow.

As he’s handing out little plates to his fans, a large tiefling walks up to the window of the wagon and says, “Uh. Excuse me?”

“Can it wait, bubala?” Taako replies absently. “Taako’s a one-elf show and he’s got a lot on his perfectly-manicured hands right now.”

“No!” the tiefling says hotly, and Taako actually freezes in the act of handing out a plate to shoot a chilly look at the person.

“You’re gonna have to wait, my dude,” he says. “Taako’s busy.”

The tiefling huffs and crosses his arms (which, Taako does not fail to notice, are rather muscular) but does as Taako asks.

After typical congratulations and chatter, the crowd disperses and Taako is left to clean up and keep moving. As he sets about wiping down his countertops, he hears someone clear their throat. Turning, he sees the tiefling from earlier. “Still here, huh?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” the tiefling says. “I just wanted to talk to you. About your show.”

“Oh, really?” Taako hums. “What’s up, bubala? Need some cooking tips? Gonna ask for a lesson?”

“N-no. I was… I was wondering if I could help you. Sort of like a stage hand? I could help you lift things and clean up and maybe act as bodyguard.”

“Is that so?” The elf’s face stretches into a smile. “I think I see what you’re doing here. The answer’s no, Taako’s good out here. I don’t need a ‘lover’ getting in the way of my fame and glory and whatnot.”

The tiefling flushes. “That’s not what I meant.”

Blinking, Taako stops what he’s doing and looks at the guy. “You’re really just in it to help a guy out?”

“Sure. I noticed you were having some trouble doing everything by yourself and figured you could use a hand.” The tiefling offered a smile, showing off perfect white teeth uncommon among his race.

Taako stares at the tiefling for a long moment before going back to his task and saying absently, “Could you dry the dishes for me?”

“Wait, so I--?”

“Hell yeah, bubala. Welcome on board the Taako Train. What’s your name?”

“Oh. Oh, it’s Sazed.”

* * *

It's a month later and Taako notices quickly how tense Sazed has become. So after a show as they're tidying up Taako asks him, “Something the matter, Saz?”

Sazed flushes dark. “No.”

“Come on, Saz, I know when something's up.” Taako gives him what he hopes is an encouraging smile.

Sazed stops what he's doing and faces Taako. “Taako, I…”

Sazed clenches his fists and scrunches up his eyes and  _ gods _ if that isn't the most adorable thing Taako’s ever seen. “What is it, bubala?” he asks, leaning forward slightly.

Sazed replies by launching himself at Taako, clutching the front of the elf’s shirt, and dragging him into a hard, sloppy kiss. And Taako  _ melts. _

Is this what love feels like?

* * *

They collapse onto Taako’s little bed that night, kissing hungrily, shedding articles of clothing and running their hands up and down each other’s bodies. One of Sazed’s big red hands pulls Taako’s hair out of its bun and he tugs his fingers through the bleached curls. At this, Taako moans loudly into Sazed’s mouth.

“Mmm… you like that, baby?” Sazed whispers, white teeth gleaming in his grin.

“M-maybe,” Taako gasps as Sazed does it again.

Sazed leans down for another hot kiss before trailing his lips down Taako’s jaw, his throat, his chest, his belly. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he murmurs, sliding Taako’s pants off of him. “So, so good.”

“Show me,” Taako whispers.

Sazed shows him.

* * *

The next day, as Taako tests his newest recipe, he feels Sazed’s arms snake around his waist. Taako doesn’t stop slicing carrots, but he hums softly and smiles as the comfortable warmth of his--lover? Boyfriend?--presses against his back. “Hey, babe,” he says.

“Hi,” Sazed whispers, right in Taako’s ear. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine, once you stopped hogging the blankets,” Taako jokes.

“I didn’t,” Sazed argues, grip on Taako tightening. “Besides, you don’t even need sleep.”

“I think I can tell when somebody’s stealing my covers--and sleeping’s a recreational activity for me,” Taako replies.

“I can think of a couple of other recreational activities,” Sazed grins, and nips at Taako’s neck, right over a hickey.

The elf makes a soft noise and smacks at Sazed’s hand. “Don’t do that while I’m trying to cook, bubala,” he scolds.

“I can do whatever I want.” Sazed makes a ‘tch’ sound.

“Not when I’m holding a knife.”

“Well, why don’t you put down the knife and--” Sazed puts a hand over Taako’s, and Taako starts.

“Careful, Saz! I almost cut my finger off!”

“Well, if you’d put the knife down like I told you that wouldn’t have happened!”

“Hey, whose wagon is this?” Taako snaps. “Mine, that’s right. You only just got here, you don’t have any right to order me around like some sort of--housewife or something.” Taako gently elbows Sazed, trying to loosen his arms. “Let go, Saz, I need to work.”

“Don't you love me?” Sazed says, and his voice has gone quiet. Taako can hear the pout.

Taako sighs. “I don't know, Saz. It's too soon to decide.”

“I don't understand,” Sazed almost whines. “You kissed me back yesterday, and we had sex together last night. That should decide everything.”

Taako considers this. It's a good argument. And Sazed did treat him well last night, so he  _ must _ love him.

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “I think I do.”

* * *

“I just don’t think you should do it,” Sazed says.

“Why not?” Taako asks, not looking at his boyfriend.

“You’ve only been doing this for--what, three months? I just don’t think it’s practical to perform for such rich people. I think you need to perfect your work a bit more.”

“What, you think my cooking’s not good enough for them?” Taako snaps.

“Yeah! Remember the show last week? You transmuted the celery into  _ iceberg lettuce _ , not spinach! You’re not ready for big shows like this!” Sazed slams his hands down on the table, and Taako flinches at the noise.

Holding his ground, he draws himself up to look taller and shouts, “I transmuted the celery wrong because you  _ distracted _ me! Maybe if you weren’t always butting in in the middle of  _ my shows _ \--!”

“ _ Butting in _ \--?” Sazed steps forward, raises his hand to strike. Taako shrinks immediately, throwing up an arm to protect himself.

But the blow never comes, and Sazed relaxes slightly. “I’m sorry,” he says. “That was almost too far.”

“Yeah, almost,” Taako says, voice shaking. He’s wringing his hands, and his eyes stare firmly at the ground. “Don’t you  _ ever _ do that again.”

“I won't,” Sazed lies.

* * *

“Saz, I really think I should make the lemon sponge cake for this show.”

“Well, I think you should make angel food cake,” the tiefling insists. “These people are expecting greatness--and they shouldn’t have to experience the equivalent of lemon drop pastry. Nobody likes lemon.”

“But Saz--”

“No, Taako, I know what's best. You're going to make this recipe.”

“It's my show!”

“I don't care! I'm supposed to be helping you!”

“But you're not even helping anymore! You're just--”

“Shut up!” Sazed bellows, and Taako does, his face going red.

Sazed pants heavily as he catches his breath. The room is otherwise silent.

Taako sniffles.

“Taako, no, oh sweetheart,” Sazed exclaims as soon as he hears the soft noise.

“I'm not crying,” Taako says stiffly. “Don't need pity.”

“I'm just--” Sazed sighs heavily, looking up at the low ceiling. “You made me so  _ angry _ , Taako, I couldn't help yelling. If you didn't have to make me so mad, I wouldn't yell at you.”

“Yeah, well,” Taako says. “I've gotta take my stand and whatnot. At least we know I can speak for myself.” He lets out a tentative laugh.

“I didn't do anything wrong, though,” Sazed insists. “There's nothing to take a stand about. I think you should apologize for making me so angry.”

“No,” Taako says.

Sazed’s eyes narrow. “Do it,” he threatens. “Or else.”

“Or else what?” Taako presses, chin high.

Sazed raises his hand and takes a step toward Taako. “Or else I’ll hit you.”

“You wouldn't da--!” Taako is cut off by a sharp  _ slap _ and, a half second later, a stinging pain on his left cheek. “Ow! Shit!” He rubs his cheek and stares in disbelief at Sazed, who looks at him with such remorse his anger melts away.

“Okay,” Taako mumbles, eyes going to the floor. “I'm sorry for making you so angry. I'm a little shit sometimes is all, and… I guess I get a little stuck-up.”

“It's okay,” Sazed says warmly, pulling Taako into his strong arms. “I forgive you.” He kisses the top of Taako’s head. “I love you.”

“Mmm,” Taako hums. “Love you too.”

* * *

“So then we’ll make our way to Neverwinter--it’s a short drive so we’ll have about a day to get there and set up before we need to perform--and after that--”

“Sazed, maybe, since this is my show, with my name on the merch, shouldn’t I be doing the planning?”

The silence is tangible.

“I thought I was helping,” Sazed says after a long moment. His voice is taut, like a stretched rubber band. It’s about to snap.

“Helping’s all fine and dandy until the person you were helping starts to help you,” Taako says, and no, his voice is  _ definitely not _ afraid. He clasps a hand around the opposite wrist so tightly his hands go numb.

“Are you saying I shouldn’t help you?” Sazed asks. “Maybe I should just walk out right now, because this is  _ Taako’s  _ show and  _ Taako’s  _ wagon and  _ Taako’s  _ life and Taako, Taako…  _ Taako. _ ” As he speaks, he advances upon the elf, who backs his way into a corner, eyes widening with every sneered word.

“N-now, Sazed,” Taako tries placatingly, but the tiefling doesn’t let him finish. With a resounding  _ smack-CRACK! _ Sazed slaps Taako so hard his head snaps sideways and hits the wall. Taako cries out from the sudden pain and almost falls, catching himself and breathing hard as he tries to keep the tears at bay.

They stare at each other, breathing hard. Finally, “It’s not all about you,” Sazed hisses, before turning and walking out of the wagon.

Alone, Taako sinks to the floor, sobbing quietly and pressing a hand to the already-bruising cheek.

Is this what love feels like?

* * *

When Taako gets back from the grocery store, Sazed is in a flying rage.

“What’s wrong, bubala?” Taako asks, concerned.

“We lost money yesterday!” Sazed shouts. “Some pilfering little fucker stole merch from us!”

“Did we at least make a profit?” Taako asks.

“Yes, but--” Sazed cannot be calmed down, Taako realizes, at least not through talking.

“Shh, hey, babe,” Taako tries, setting down the grocery bags on the little table and warily approaching his boyfriend. “Come on, let’s sit down and try to think of security meas--”

“ _ Fuck _ security measures!” Sazed yells, slamming his hand against a cabinet.

A cascade of spice jars rains from the shelves and shatters on the floor, and the noise of breaking glass and Sazed’s shout startles Taako so badly that he starts to cry.

As soon as Sazed sees Taako’s tears, he immediately calms down. “Oh, gods, Taako, I’m sorry,” he says, taking his boyfriend into his arms. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I really didn’t, I was just so  _ angry. _ ” Taako sniffles. “Oh, please don’t cry, you look so ugly when you cry,” Sazed pleads. “Come on, babe. Deep breaths.”

Taako takes a deep, shuddering breath and starts to calm down. “Do you… think I’m ugly?” he asks softly.

“Only sometimes, sweetheart,” Sazed croons. “Only sometimes.”

* * *

Taako winces when he wakes up. “Did you have to be so rough?” he mumbles to Sazed.

“You weren't complaining last night,” Sazed smiles, rolling onto his side to look at his boyfriend. “I thought you liked it rough.”

“ _ I _ thought I asked you to be gentle last night,” Taako retorts, and immediately claps a hand over his mouth.

“Did you just backtalk me?” Sazed says, and his voice is dangerously quiet. “You know what happens to disrespectful little whores here, right?”

“Please, Sazed,” Taako begs, “I have a show today.” When Sazed doesn’t reply, he grows even more agitated. Biting his lip, he whimpers, “I’m sorry.”

Sazed stares at the elf for one, two, three seconds. “You’ll get what’s coming later. I don’t want you looking like shit for your show. Get dressed, I want to talk recipes with you.” The tiefling rolls out of bed, quickly dresses himself, and leaves the tiny bedroom.

Taako is tense until Sazed leaves. Then, he slumps back against the headboard and, clamping his hand once more over his mouth, lets the tears silently fall as he stares at the bruised handprints on his bare thighs and waist.

* * *

It’s an off-day, between shows, between travel, and Taako stands in the kitchen, mixing batter for some elderflower macarons. He has some Fantasy Radio playing in the background and he sways his hips to the beat of the music, dancing as he works. The sun shines outside and a few bluebirds fly past the window, chirping.

Taako hasn’t smiled like this in a while.

He doesn’t see Sazed standing in the doorway, watching him, until the tiefling speaks. “What’re you up to, sweetheart?”

Taako turns, smiling, his mixing bowl cradled in one arm while the other works the whisk. “Just making some macarons. For fun.”

Sazed stares at Taako, his short, flirty skirt, his almost-sheer crop top, his thigh-high lace-up sandals--all practical, as the day is warm and the kitchen warmer--and he licks his lips. Taako winks and turns back to the counter. “Wanna help?” he asks.

“I. Uh. Yeah,” Sazed stammers, approaching the counter. “What should I do?”

“Well, you could get out a baking sheet and line it with parchment paper for me,” Taako says. “One less thing for ol’ Taako to do.”

“Um, alright.”

And so the afternoon passes, delicious cookies on hand and Fantasy Radio playing as Taako dances around the kitchen and Sazed watches, hungry for more than just macarons.

* * *

It’s dark outside. The macarons have been eaten, the Fantasy Radio switched off, and Taako is alone in the kitchen, cleaning up.

Sazed appears in the doorway. “Hey, babe,” he says, voice husky.

“Hi, bubala,” Taako replies, not looking behind him. Mistake.

Sazed is behind him in a flash, grabbing him, pushing him into the wall, kissing him. Kissing him hard.

He pulls back to flash Taako a grin and Taako smiles back, a little uncertain. “Hey, uh, not tonight, okay?”

“Your dancing today didn’t tell me that.”

“Sazed, I don’t--”

“Come on, Taako, you can’t tell me that you didn’t think I was gonna--”

Sazed has picked Taako up, they’re heading for the bedroom, and Taako realizes what’s happening. He wriggles against Sazed’s grasp.

“Not tonight, I--”

“Taako, I need to--”

They’re on the bed now. Taako is scared now. He doesn’t want this, doesn’t want this, doesn’t want this.

“ _ Sazed, _ you can’t--”

“--bein’ such a tease, a guy can’t take it--”

“I wasn’t trying to--”

“ _ I want you. _ ”

A hungry kiss, Taako’s desperate pleas are cut off.

As he struggles to throw Sazed off of him, the tiefling whispers, “Just relax.”

So he does.

~

When Taako wakes up the next morning, he doesn’t remember what happened the night before. But the aching between his legs and the bruises down his thighs and across his throat tell him everything he needs to know.

* * *

“Taako, this has got to be the fifth time you’ve transmuted the  _ wrong thing _ ,” Sazed says after their next show.

“I’m sorry,” Taako mumbles at the floor. “I’m tired is all.”

He’s not wrong. His head just hasn’t been in the game since  _ that night. _

“I just don’t think you’re as good a wizard as you  _ claim _ to be,” Sazed continues as if Taako hasn’t even spoken. “I don’t know if it’s just because you’re not as smart as other people, or if you just haven’t practiced enough, or what, but this has to get better or your viewings are going to drop.”

“What do you mean… ‘not as smart’?” Taako asks, cocking his head at Sazed.

“Just what it sounds like. You might just be a simple idiot wizard.” Sazed shrugs. “It’s a good thing I love you, because if this keeps up, nobody else will.”

“But Saz, I’m just tired. The only times these things happen are when I’m tired.”

“You just need to get more sleep. I’ve been telling you not to stay up so late, you just won’t listen to me.”

Taako opens his mouth to argue, but all that comes out is, “Sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

“Great,” Sazed says with a smile that makes Taako smile too.

For a single, brief moment, he’s warm.

* * *

“Taako, I think I should be part of your show.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You need help. I'm right here. I can just… hand you things. We could be ‘Sizzle It Up With Taako and Sazed’.” He grins at Taako. “What do you think?”

“I, um.” Taako considers his words carefully, tries to think of a valid reason that isn’t  _ I don’t want you to steal one more part of my life from me _ . “I think it's a great idea but… re-making all the merch? Painting the wagon? Too much work and money, bubala. Plus, what will the people say?”

“They'll say they're glad Taako finally has some help,” Sazed replies, teeth gritted.

“I don't think so. This has always been a one-man show, babe, and people don't like change.”

Sazed pounds a fist on the counter and Taako jumps, but stands firm. Sazed may have taken a lot from him but like hell he was going to take his show. “I'll beat your ass, bitch,” the tiefling snarls.

“Do it,” Taako replies defiantly. “This is my thing and you can't have it.”

The bruises he gains are regarded with honor for weeks.

* * *

Taako shivers and throws up again in the bushes. Their horrible screams ring in his mind, death rattles that will never leave him.

“This is why you have to be careful with magic around food,” Sazed says, and his voice is cold. “You killed forty  _ fucking  _ people, Taako.”

“Sazed, Saz, I didn't--I wouldn't--” Tears stream down Taako’s face.

“Go to sleep,” Sazed snaps.

Taako obeys. When he wakes up, Sazed is gone.

* * *

(Much later, Taako finds out what Sazed did to him at Glamour Springs and the rage that wells up in his system is so great that he trembles. When he gets back to the Bureau of Balance he casts a silencing spell and then he screams and he screams and he  _ screams _ and he throws things across his room and he conjures a miniature tornado to destroy things more thoroughly and then he flings himself at his dismembered bed and he cries and he cries and he lets the feelings of betrayal destroy him just a little bit.)

(This is, of course, after he meets Tall, Dark, and Handsome in their dorm’s common room. As he lies face-down on his too-soft mattress he thinks, maybe, he should try again.)

(Maybe he’ll figure out what love really feels like.)


	2. Recovery, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taako meets the Grim Reaper, goes on a few dates, and has trust issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter 1) took forever and 2) is much longer than expected. I had to split it into two parts so expect that sometime soon. I PROMISE chapter 3 is less heavy  
> Content warnings: Anxiety attacks, strong references to past abuse, sexually suggestive references, a lot of strong language, references to drinking/getting drunk, self-deprication.  
> ***PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS STILL TECHNICALLY A VENT FIC SO MANY OF THESE CIRCUMSTANCES ARE INCREDIBLY PERSONAL TO ME. PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL IN THE COMMENTS.***

Taako’s knees are trembling as he walks into the commons of his dorm. He hangs up his cloak and leans the Umbrastaff against the wall--and then stops as he sees the Grim Reaper himself, reclining on his sofa. His handsome face breaks into a smug smile when he sees Taako and, sitting up straighter, he says, “You’ve added quite a bit to your death count, haven’t you?”

Taako stares at the guy. Broad shoulders, dark skin, long black hair. He’s just as handsome as the last time Taako saw him, too.

Taking a deep breath, Taako walks over and perches on the arm of the sofa, letting his flirty-length skirt ride up his thigh just a bit. “What’s up, handsome?” he asks, willing the trembling in his hands to subside.

“I want to know what happened in Refuge,” Kravitz says, all business.

He does, Taako observes, seem less aggressive than he was in Lucas’s lab.

“Alright, my dude, but it’s a long fuckin’ story and even I don’t understand all of it--simple idiot wizard, y’know--so I’ll give it to ya as best I can.”

So he explains in as much detail as possible, and Kravitz is incredibly attentive. He never interrupts, he just watches as Taako speaks and describes the events that happened in the little dusty town. It’s… nice, Taako decides, to be listened to without intrusion of other thoughts.

“Anyway,” Taako concludes, “that’s about it. Real spooky, huh?”

Kravitz nods, his mouth curving in a slight smile that Taako finds rather  _ adorable. _ “Quite,” he agrees.

“Now, Krav-cakes, I’ve got a question for you,” Taako continues, poking a manicured finger straight into Kravitz’s chest. “Why are you chasing me and the boys? There’s gotta be a reason you’ve got a count on the number of times we’ve died.”

“Well,” Kravitz says, leaning forward, “I’m a bounty hunter for the Raven Queen. I collect souls of people who don’t visit my plane when it’s time--liches, necromancers, people who break the laws of death, et cetera.

“Obviously, as I said before, you three have significantly added to your previous death counts, which you still have to atone for. But now  _ everyone else in Refuge _ has also died a significant amount of times, and now they all have to answer for that. I was looking for some insight on the situation, so you have definitely provided. Now, about your souls--”

And that’s when his Stone of Farspeech crackles. “Kravitz,” a deep feminine voice booms, “a bounty for you. Goldcliff. Leave immediately.”

“Yes, my Queen,” Kravitz murmurs into his stone, and stands up, the flesh of his face melting away as he summons his gigantic scythe. “I’m terribly sorry, Taako,” he apologizes. “I have work to do.”

He hesitates. “Here,” he says, “we should attune our Stones so we can--can meet again to chat about your mortal souls.”

A skeletal hand reaches out and Taako places his Stone in it, letting Kravitz attune them to each other before returning it to the elf. “I’ll call soon,” Taako promises with a cheeky wink and Kravitz nods before ripping open a hole in reality with his scythe and leaping through.

Taako releases a deep, tense breath, and, hands trembling once more, heads to his room.

* * *

Taako calls Kravitz the next day.

“‘ello?” Kravitz says, and Taako almost laughs at the stupid cockney accent.

“Hey, Krav-cakes, it’s Taako,” he says. “I was wondering if I could go ahead and set up our da--meeting.”

“Let me get my calendar,” Kravitz says, and there’s the sound of rustling papers. “Aha,” he exclaims, then says, “alright, I’m free next weekend.”

“Perfect,” Taako says, “me too. Let’s say the Chug n’ Squeeze, Saturday at seven here on the base? Good? Great. IllseeyouSaturdaybye.”

Without giving Kravitz a chance to respond at all, Taako makes the date and hangs up. Score.

* * *

Taako’s shaky hands nervously shape the clay. The wheel spins and the glass of wine next to him is on its second refill. It’s been twenty minutes and Kravitz still isn’t there.

It’s a couple’s night, Taako realizes, and the irony of that revelation does not escape him. To his right, Carey and Killian giggle over their spinning vases.

_ Have I been stood up? _ Taako wonders--and that’s when Kravitz walks in.

He stares at Taako.

Taako stares back.

Carey and Killian stare at both of them.

Kravitz manages a strained smile and, hanging up his cloak, strides across the room and takes a seat behind Taako. He practically  _ radiates _ discomfort.

Eventually, after he manages to throw his clay on the wheel, Kravitz speaks: “Taako, this is uh…” Kravitz pauses, swallows, tries again. “Taako, this is a pretty unconventional place to have an argument about sort of the fate of a whole small community, but... I do like wine, so…” Suddenly, he says in a completely different voice, “I'm sorry, do you mind if I drop the accent, it's like--it's really really hard to keep it up, and when I'm not on the job it just feels weird doing it. Is that okay?”

Taako, after recovering from the surprise that he’s somehow even cuter without the accent, grins. “Yeah, of course!” He lowers his voice several octaves. “As long as I can drop my accent too.” He laughs and glances at Kravitz to judge his reaction. He’s pleased to see the reaper with a faint smile on his face.

But the expression quickly fades, and Taako feels lead in his gut for a split second. “So why did you...? Why are we...? Why are we here, Taako?” Kravitz asks. “Why can't we just like, go back to the dorm and finish our conversation?”

“Well, ironically because I thought it would get weird. But--it is. I don't know why I thought this would be a better option.” An unspoken  _ sorry,  _ an old habit he still hasn’t broken. “Um, also you're like, very dangerous so I didn't want to necessarily leave myself in private with you.” Taako bites his lip. Being left alone in rooms with strange men when you’re very attractive has always turned out to be a Bad Thing in his experience.

Kravitz seems a little taken aback. “I'm not gonna attack you, Taako, that's--here's the thing, I don't actually have a contract out on you, or Merle, or Magnus or anybody in Refuge.” 

_ Huh? _ Taako thinks. His finger slips, cutting a deep line through his spinning clay.

“I'm just trying to make sense of it, because like, I've never--I've been hunting for a good long time, and I've never known anyone who's sort of bent the laws as much as you have. So I'm just trying to understand what makes you guys so special.”

Taako slips into a whole spiel about a bowl and people on the edge, vs in the middle. (There’s an incident with an instructor and Taako pretends to change his bowl into a vase before turning it right back into a bow. Taako’s muse must not be chained up. He  _ loves _ Kravitz’s laugh when he completely goes against the instructor’s directions.)

Eventually, they come onto the topic of the Bureau, and Kravitz sounds actually, legitimately--concerned? “Listen, Taako, I mean... you explained to me last time we talked, sort of, what you all are doing here, and it sounds very--it sounds important, but the fact that I've visited you as much as I have means this line of work is just preposterously dangerous. So why are doing this, Taako? Why aren't you doing a--a safer career?”

It must be the wine. It must be because he hasn’t felt this way in ages. There must be a good explanation for the words that unwillingly come out of Taako’s mouth.

“Because I’m worried no one else will have me.”

Kravitz pauses. “Wow, that was… a very honest answer. I’m a bit shocked.” His gaze doesn’t stray from his clay, and Taako is thankful. His eyes are  _ far _ too shiny right now.

“Well, I mean, that's the truth,” Taako says, and  _ where are these words coming from? _ “If I can't be honest at the Chug and Squeeze then frankly, my man, I don't know where I can.” He bites his lip and concentrates on the curve of the vase for a moment. “What else am I gonna do? As far as anybody else knows, my career as a chef is over.”  _ Not your fault not your fault not your _ \-- “Nobody wants an adventurer who's got as little experience as I'd have, going in. I can't put any of this in my resume, it'll look like scribbles! So that's out. I don't have a lot of job prospects on that front. So here I am.”

It’s at this point that Kravitz decides to surprise Taako even further. “I can certainly understand that. I was given a pretty... pretty difficult choice when I was faced with the career of being a bounty hunter for the goddess of death. I didn't grow up wanting to be that, of course. I wanted to be a conductor.” A conductor? What a  _ nerd. _ Taako snorts. “But, you know. Life finds a way, or, you know, death… the goddess of death.”

They sit in comfortable silence before Kravitz speaks once more. “I appreciate you being so open and honest with me, Taako. I feel like I kind of understand where you're coming from. How much more dying do you think is going to happen, just so I know how to sort of pitch your case to the Raven Queen?”

Taako grins. “Well, dang, now we've reached something of an impasse, huh?” He clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “How much more... us dying, or like, other regular dying?”

Kravitz shrugs. “Any kind of dying. What’s, uh, the game plan there?”

“Well, I mean, there's gonna be some,” Taako says. “The thing at Refuge was definitely an outlier, I don't plan to die that many times again. So that was probably-- here's what I'm going to say.” He puts a hand on Kravitz’s to help him shape his vase and  _ oh, oh gods, that’s so sappy.  _

Kravitz’s hand is very cold.  _ Very _ cold. “Oh boy. Oh, boy howdy, that is a clammy one,” Taako exclaims quietly before continuing. “Listen. If we can overlook that unpleasantness, I think you're going to find a very acceptable level of death in the days and weeks ahead. That's what I'm going to say to you. A very normal, sort of corporeal, just, usual amount of death.”

And that basically settles it.

The rest of the evening is spent just chatting and enjoying the class. They have a few bottles, talk about the latest fantasy movies, and just generally have fun.

At the end of the night, they get to keep their vases--Kravitz’s is alright, if a little crooked, and Taako’s is rad, naturally--and, a little drunk, they leave the little studio and go walking across the quad.

“Hey, Taako?” Kravitz says. “I want to know….”

“Yeah?”

“Was this for business or for pleasure?”

“A little bit of both. Like, I don’t want to be dragged to hell or whatever it is you do. Stored in the ghost house with Caspar and the lot. I am  _ not  _ interested in that.” He grins. “But like, I also love your style. Not crazy about the clamminess of the skin, but like, you know, it’s been a while out here.”

He thinks back, briefly, to warm hugs and strong arms and tender kisses.  _ It’s been a while. _

Then a whole bunch of things happen at once and Kravitz freaks out, turning into Skeletor and asking Taako a bunch of questions. At some point Taako’s Umbra Staff tries to kill the reaper, which arouses a lot of suspicion on Kravitz’s part and just generally kills the entire mood.

Kravitz decides he has to leave to “think about it” but, as he opens a rift, he says, “I’ve had a lovely evening, do you think I’ll be hearing from you again any time soon?”

“Yeah,” Taako grins. “As long as I don’t, you know, die again.”

“Well, even so, we have ways of… dealing with that.” Kravitz gestures vaguely.

“Well, yeah, that’s pretty much the best excuse I ever have, so I think you’ll definitely be seeing me again, for sure.”

Kravitz chuckles and it sends this warm feeling coursing through Taako’s chest. “Well, if that’s the case, then hopefully not too soon. Goodbye, Taako.”

Taako waves, and the rift closes.

Goddammit, he’s in too deep.

* * *

 

Taako’s Stone buzzes on his nightstand. Mumbling, the elf blinks blearily and slams a hand down on it like it’s an alarm clock. “Mmm,” he says. “Sup?”

“Oh, my gods.”

Kravitz?

“Taako, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were sleeping, time doesn’t work in the Astral Plane like it does on the Prime Material, I’ll call back later.”

“Mm,” Taako hums again. “You don’t have to apologize, Kravinator, elves don’t need sleep. It’s a… a recreational activity for me.”

_ I can think of a couple of other recreational activities. _

Taako shivers.

“Still,” Kravitz says, “I don’t want to disturb you when you’re resting. Would you prefer I called you again later, or--”

“Nah. I’m here now, I can talk. Who knows what Madame ‘Let’s Do Some More Training’ Directory will have us do when all the humans are awake.” Taako laughs a little. “Fuckin’ hate training.”

Kravitz laughs too. Taako  _ loves _ the laugh. “Alright, then,” the reaper says. “I was wondering,” and then his voice gets all awkward and he coughs a little bit. “I was wondering,” he repeats, “when you’d want to get together again?”

Taako chokes.  _ Fuck _ . Was Kravitz asking him on a date?

“Yeah, sure, my man,” he says with false confidence. “I’d love to hang with you again.”

“Wonderful,” Kravitz says. “I’m free in a couple days. Saturday. We could… go to a concert together?”

“Hells yeah, Krav-cakes. A concert sounds bangin’.”

“Alright.” Kravitz’s voice lilts upwards like a smile. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll get us tickets, I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Amazing,” Taako says, “I’ll see you then.”

~

When Kravitz shows up at Taako’s dorm at seven, his face quirks in an amused smile. “What are you wearing?” he asks.

“Um, proper concert attire, Mr ‘Wears-Suits-As-Casual-Fashion’,” Taako says, flaunting his incredibly fashionable torn jeans and neon green crop top (which reads “SIZZLING” on the front in sequined letters).

“I expected you to look a little more… formal, for our outing tonight,” Kravitz says, bewilderment creeping into his voice. “Seeing the Neverwinter Symphony is usually a dressier affair.”

Taako’s eyes widen. “I wasn’t expecting  _ that _ kind of concert, Krav-sticks,” he gapes. “Normally, when people say ‘concert’, one would immediately think  _ Fantasy Coldplay On Stage _ concert.”

Krav looks awkward. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you, Taako,” he says sheepishly.

“Nah.” Taako waves off the apology easily. “I’ll go change real fast, I’ll only be a moment.”

The elf saunters into his room and shuts the door, looking cool and casual the whole way, but as soon as he’s protected by his silencing spell, he explodes in a panicked flurry, flinging clothes this way and that as he tries to find the perfect formal attire for a night at the symphony. “Shit shit shit shit  _ shit, _ ” he says, “ _ where _ is that little black dress? I just saw the little motherfu--AHA!  _ There _ you are!” With a shriek of glee, he stops in the middle of his rant and holds up the perfect number for the evening. “Kravvy’s gonna drop  _ dead _ when he sees this!”

Giggling at his pun, he quickly slips on the dress and goes about adorning himself with various pieces of jewelry and artfully piling his hair on top of his head. Tonight was going to go all his way.

~

Taako’s right--Kravitz is blown away. When Taako walks out of his room, the heels of his knee-high boots clicking sharply against the hardwood floor, Kravitz’s mouth falls open for a moment before he realizes it. “Taako--you look  _ amazing. _ ”

Taako smoothes one manicured hand against the sleek black fabric of the little dress and smiles. “Thanks, babe. We’ve only got so much night, though, so--concert?” He smiles winningly, bright lipstick framing his gap-toothed grin.

“I--Yeah,” Kravitz stammers, and takes the arm Taako offers. “Let’s go.”

~

The concert is amazing. Not because Taako likes the sound of screeching violins, but because he loves watching Kravitz not-so-subtly conduct the music like an utter dork. He’s got this big goofy grin on his face as he’s listening to Fantasy Shostakovitch, and Taako finds himself loving that smile.

He can’t wait to smooch it off his face later tonight.

As they leave the theater, Kravitz says, “I can--drop you off, so you don’t have to call one of those spheres. Is that okay?”

“I would love that, Krav-cakes,” Taako purrs, and offers him a heavy-lidded, suggestion-laden smile that Kravitz totally misses.

“Okay then,” Kravitz says, and Taako feels a little bad that Kravitz seems so awkward around him. But then the reaper summons his scythe and, with a graceful movement, rips a hole in the fabric of reality, and Taako is suddenly  _ really turned-on. _ His mouth goes dry but he waits for Kravitz to take the first step through the hole, leading Taako back to his flat.

“Thanks,” Taako says, and shoots Kravitz another look that the reaper catches this time. Taako watches a faint blush rise in Kravitz’s dark cheeks. “Can I get a good-night kiss, hot stuff?” he asks, his voice just short of innocent.

“Oh, I--yes,  _ fuck. _ ” Kravitz finally gives in and Taako meets him right there in the middle.

It’s nice, Taako hasn’t gotten a good make-out sesh in  _ ages, _ and though Kravitz is obviously inexperienced, he’s trying hard and doing well enough to make Taako really horny.

And suddenly Kravitz is pushing Taako against the wall and it is  _ not nice anymore he has to get away get away get away get off get off get off go go go go go _ and he’s shoving Kravitz away from him and he must look  _ terrified _ because Kravitz starts to say “Sorr-” before Taako cuts him off, “Just go, just go,” and Kravitz, worried, pauses, stretches out a hand as if to touch (strike) Taako, who flinches hard enough he hits the back of his head against the wall.

“I’m done,” Taako whispers. Then, louder, “Go away.”

Kravitz leaves with a quiet “good-night” and an “I’ll call you later” and Taako is alone in the hallway with smeared lipstick and a rumpled dress, trying his hardest to shut down the panicked adrenaline that courses through his veins like hot lava.

* * *

The next day, Kravitz calls, and he is tentative and concerned and the sweetness of that makes Taako’s chest hurt. He didn’t think that Kravitz would actually call--but now that he has, Taako is an immediate outpouring of apologies and excuses. “I’m sorry, Krav, I really am, I didn’t, I should have, I  _ wanted it _ , I did, I swear, but I--I  _ couldn’t _ \--!”

“Taako, I--calm down, you don’t have to apologize,” Kravitz says placatingly, halting the outburst. “I don’t  _ care. _ I want to--Taako, I need to know if you’re  _ okay. _ ”

_ Is _ he okay? He feels okay, most of the time. When he’s not throwing up in the bathroom after smelling garlic in the cafeteria, or standing in the kitchen at two in the morning and crying as he tries, for the thousandth time, to cook something without hearing their screams.

But last night was different. Last night he’d felt scared, trapped, cornered, like some animal in a cage. Like Sazed was there.

Is he okay? It’s like there’s a war in his head: does he lie and say  _ yes, _ or does he be truthful and say, ‘ _ I don’t know, I’m scared, I haven’t felt this way in a long time’ _ ?

“Yeah, Krav,” he says easily. “I’m fine. Last night was just a--a hitch, yeah?”

“You didn’t--” Kravitz sighs through his nose, a  _ huff _ of disapproval. “Alright. Okay. I have work I need to get started on, but I’ll call you tomorrow. Probably. Don’t die.” And, with a burst of static, he hangs up.

Well, shit. Taako fucked that one right on up.

* * *

As they continue to talk, spaces between conversations ranging anywhere from a few hours to several days, Taako starts to find it harder and harder to lie to Kravitz.

And then, finally. Finally. It’s been almost two weeks since the concert date. Taako’s lying flat on his back on his bed at the end of a very long day, chatting with the hottest guy in the universe, and Kravitz asks, “How are you?”

Admittedly, today Taako’s had a shitty day. He woke up from a dream he can’t and won’t describe (is it repressed memory or just a worst-case scenario? He can’t remember that motherfucker doing that to him but then, he can’t remember a lot of things). He panicked in the kitchen again and burned his hand badly on the hot stove. Carey and Killian beat him to a pulp in the dojo (a few healing potions patched him up good as new but it sucked). He caught Merle doing something  _ nasty _ with a tree. All in all, not very good.

So, when Taako says, “Well, pretty fuckin’ bad,” he’s shocked he’s just said that, but he can’t take it back.

“Are you--hurt? What happened?”

The worry in Kravitz’s tone makes Taako nauseous. “Nah, bubala,” he says, “I’m not hurt. I--well, a lot of shit happened and I--”

“Do you want me to come over?”

The question is so genuine, so concerned, so fucking  _ sweet _ that Taako wants to throw up. “Yeah,” he says, and he’s proud that the tears in his eyes don’t affect his voice at all. “That would be somethin’.”

It takes barely a second before a hole appears in the wall of Taako’s room and in steps Kravitz, who takes in the scene for a second before finally looking at Taako and saying, “What do you need?”

Well,  _ fuck. _ When was the last time someone asked that of Taako? He can’t remember, and that’s really sad but he says, “Could you just--” and he gestures vaguely to his bed and Kravitz, awkward but always meaning well, sits on the edge and looks down at the prone elf.

“Taako. What do you  _ need? _ ”

It’s so damn sweet, Taako cannot, emotionally, handle this anymore. “I need you to--shit, Krav--” He wipes at his eyes dramatically. “I need you to just fuckin’-- _ hold me. _ ”

Taako is, admittedly,  _ never _ this forward. But this is an exception and he expects Kravitz to appreciate that.

“Okay,” Kravitz says without any sort of hesitation, and he kicks off his shoes and leans back against the headboard and wraps his arms around Taako, pulling him close to his room-temperature chest. “Is this alright?”

Taako sniffles and he nods. He never cries in front of anyone, ever. It’s like, his rule. Never let your makeup run in front of anyone you want to impress, which is everybody.

But Kravitz is an exception, again, like always, and Taako takes advantage of that exception and uses it to smush his face against the reaper’s black-clad chest and cry.

“Oh, Taako,” Kravitz begins, sadly, and Taako already knows what he’s going to say.

_ ‘You’re so ugly when you cry.’ _

“Don’t you fucking look at me,” he hiccups. “I’m really fuckin’ ugly when I cry, so don’t you look at me.”

“Taako,” Kravitz says again, “you’re not ugly. How could you--how could you think that?”

Taako hesitates. “I’m--not?” Then, stronger, “Of course I’m not. I’m Taako. From TV. I can’t be--can’t be ugly. Not ever.”

“Has someone--has someone told you that you’re…?”

Taako sits up, wipes at his face, his back to Kravitz. “It was a long time ago, my dude,” he says as nonchalantly as possible. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t--Taako, worrying about you is what I  _ do. _ I’m supposed to--to care about you and how you’re feeling and make sure you’re okay and--Taako, I want to understand, I…” Taako hears the jangle of Kravitz’s gold bracelets as he moves, probably running a hand through his locs. “Please talk to me.”

_ What the hell, _ Taako thinks,  _ it’s not like he’s sticking around. _

“Well, there was this guy, see,” he says, “named Sazed. He--”

No. Fuck. No. He can’t do it. He can’t say it. He can’t talk about him.

His mouth is dry, his stomach lurches suddenly. Everything goes greyscale, hazy. Kravitz is talking. What’s he saying?

Sazed is there. He’s right in front of him. Taako sees him. He feels the bruises on his arms again, the hot mouth on his body, the sharp teeth at his throat. He can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe, his heart is beating faster, please don’t hurt me I’m sorry, I--

“Taako,” Sazed says, but it’s not his voice?

“Taako. Taako?”

It’s… who is that?

“Taako!”

Someone touches his shoulder and he flinches, jumps away from the contact. And he’s in the present again and there’s Kravitz, and he’s right there, and Taako makes a little sound in the back of his throat before his hands latch onto Kravitz’s black vest and he clutches the reaper and he can’t speak, he can’t say anything.

“Are you…?” Kravitz starts, but Taako knows he knows the answer to that question and he stops, then he runs a hand through Taako’s loose curls. “Can I braid it?” he asks softly.

Taako hesitates, then nods.

It helps. He feels himself slowly calming down as Kravitz’s larger hands delicately weave his hair together, and it brings him back to the present. It feels… nice to have someone braiding his hair, like he was used to it once and then it was taken from him for a long time. He’s missed it, he realizes, but he can’t quite remember who’d done it for him before. Maybe his aunt.

“You’re good at this,” he says absently.

“It’s a talent,” Kravitz replies. “I used to braid my sister’s hair when I was…”

“Alive.”

Kravitz’s fingers falter for a moment. “Yeah.”

“Sorry,” Taako says quietly. “Didn’t mean to bring up anything… y’know…  _ bad. _ ”

He feels Kravitz shrug behind him. “It’s alright, it was… a long, long time ago.”

“Yeah,” Taako says. “Yeah. I get that.”

Kravitz laughs softly behind him, and Taako doesn’t think he’s ever heard a more vulnerable sound in his long life. “I can’t stay long,” he says, “but--I hope you know that I… care about you.”

Taako nods and makes a little “mmm” sound of acknowledgement. He feels Kravitz stiffen behind him, deft fingers frozen in his hair. With a quick movement he ties off the hairdo and carefully removes himself from Taako’s bed.

“I have to go,” he says, his voice a lot colder than it had been before. “I’ll call you later.”

“Bye,” Taako replies absently as a tear opens and closes in space-time. He should feel bad for brushing Kravitz off like that, but he’s already retreated into himself again. Another few hours of dissociation are in order, it seems.

And the world goes greyscale.

* * *

“Fuck,” Taako says intelligently as Kravitz steps out of a rift outside of the Fantasy Olive Garden. “You look fuckin’ incredible.”

“So do you,” Kravitz chuckles, eyeing Taako’s shimmery blue pantsuit. “It’s a very flattering color on you.”

“Mmm, thanks Krav,” Taako says. He smiles, and it feels genuine and it’s--painful? Gross. He changes the expression quickly into something more sultry. Can’t let his guard down. “I love this suit,” he continues, brushing one long, thin finger across an ebony lapel. “Very… _ dashing _ . Classy.” He winks.

He sees some color rise to Kravitz’s cheeks and counts it a victory. “Um… thank you, Taako.” Kravitz looks around for a moment. “I, uh, wasn't expecting a chain restaurant tonight, but--”

“Uh-uh-uh, shhh,” Taako says. “It’s literally the only fucking restaurant on the moon so you’re not gonna comment on the choice of fine wining and dining.”

Kravitz smiles a bit at that. “Alright. I’m not going to comment.” He holds out a gold-braceleted arm. “Shall we?”

“Mmm,” Taako hums happily. “We shall.”

They have an enjoyable enough night, drinking a little too much wine and eating a little too much pasta before staggering out with breadsticks stuffed in purses and pockets.

“Did you have fun?” Kravitz asks quietly as they walk arm-in-arm across the quad.

“Course,” Taako says. “Though I could use a little more fun….” He turns a heavy-lidded gaze upon Kravitz. “If you know what I mean.”

Kravitz takes a step back, his eyes widening imperceptibly. “Taako,” he stammers, “do you think that’s a good idea?”

Taako moves closer to Kravitz again. “Yeah,” he says, his voice low and suggestive. “I think I do.”

He doesn’t know why he’s so surprised when Kravitz closes the distance between them and presses their lips together for a kiss that quickly goes from romantic to intense. Taako quickly adjusts to Kravitz’s growing hunger and lets his own hands wander across the reaper’s body, trying to remain in control of the situation this time.

“Hey,” Kravitz says between Taako’s increasingly passionate kisses, “hey, hey, Taako.”

It’s almost embarrassing how Kravitz has to pull Taako off of him to get him to listen. “What’s wrong?” Taako says, breathless.

He shrinks a little as Kravitz studies his face.

“You don’t want this, do you?” Kravitz asks softly.

“What?”

“Taako. You don’t have to… I mean, do you feel  _ pressured _ to….” Kravitz looks incredibly uncomfortable as he stands there, holding Taako by the shoulders. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can… you know. Take it slow.”

“Take it slow?” Taako blinks. “Uh. I don’t know what planet you’re from but  _ everyone _ wants a piece of Taako. I’m surprised at how long you’ve held out, honestly.”

Why does it feel like he's about to cry? He swallows the building lump in his throat.

“Taako,” Kravitz says, and it's so gentle that it knocks down Taako’s walls--which have already been weakened by wine--and forces the tears from his eyes before he can wipe them away.

“Fuck, Krav,” he chokes out, “I'm just fucked up.” He steps back, out of Kravitz’s grip, and wipes at his face with shaking hands. “I’m too drunk to stop talking so just, just let me talk okay?”

Kravitz nods, silent.

Taako’s voice is a little steadier as he continues. “Listen. Here’s the story. So there was this guy named Sazed, and I loved him a lot, and he loved me, I guess. But short story--long story short, he, uh. He liked to hit me when he was mad? And he liked to just fuckin’. Just get what he wanted? All the time? And when I wouldn’t let him he kinda… he fucked me over. In a lot of fuckin’ ways. A lot of fuckin’ times. And the last time he fucked me over he kinda killed like forty people? And I still feel like shit because of him a lot and that’s why I’m scared you’re being so fuckin’ nice to me because he was nice to me first and now--Kravitz if you hurt me I’m gonna fuck you up so bad there aren’t gonna be enough bones to go in your hood anymore.”

Taako sees that expression on Kravitz’s face. He knows what that is.

“No. No, no, no, don’t you go and fuckin’ pity me, that’s not what I fuckin’ want out of this, Kravitz. I don’t want some, some fuckin’ sap to come along and just. Fuck me all up six ways to hell. I don’t want your pity and I don’t want your ‘I’m sorry’s and I don’t want any of your  _ bullshit _ because I’m a big fuckin’ boy and Taako can handle himself!” Taako’s shouting now, and maybe it’s just the wine, but he’s still loud and he’s still mad and he’s still terrified.

Kravitz is still staring at him, and Taako only just now notices how absolutely  _ sad _ he looks. Kravitz stands there, and he doesn’t make a move to speak or to hold Taako.

“What’s your fuckin’ problem?” Taako says, and he knows it’s not fair to Kravitz, but he’s still yelling at him because it feels good. “Aren’t you gonna say something? Aren’t you gonna, gonna get mad at me for yelling or, or tell me I deserved what happened to me or something? Aren’t you gonna, aren’t you--” Taako stops, breathing hard, trying to find words. “Aren’t you gonna be angry at me?”

It takes Kravitz another moment, but he does finally, finally open his mouth and speak. But it isn’t loud, and it isn’t harsh, and it isn’t sympathetic. It’s quiet and it’s genuine and it’s simple. “Can I hold you?” he asks.

Taako is dumbfounded. He blinks once, twice, trying to process. Then, just as dumbly, he nods, and Kravitz takes two strides and is upon him and Taako only cringes for half a second before Kravitz’s arms are around his shoulders and his hands clutch at his back and Taako just stands there and lets it happen, even as he feels Kravitz’s chest start to shake and he feels a few warm droplets on his shoulder and he hears the hitched breaths by his ear.

Neither man speaks for a long time.

Eventually, it's Taako who breaks the silence, stepping out of the embrace to study Kravitz’s face, which is now shiny with tears. “Why are  _ you _ crying, Krav? I'm the one with the tragic backstory.”

“It… it must be terrifying for you,” Kravitz says, “reliving what he did to you.”

Taako laughs, an unpleasantly mirthless sound. “You get used to it.”

Kravitz pauses, biting his lip, and Taako has to physically restrain himself from kissing him because he's  _ so fucking cute _ . “Taako,” Kravitz says, his eyes earnest and genuine, “what can I do to help you?”

It catches Taako off-guard. Again. “I don’t know,” he says.

“Do you… do you want to be in control?” Kravitz asks. “You can pick the pace, we can go as slow or as fast as you like, you can choose what we do, or--”

“No!” Taako says, too fast, too loud. “No, I can’t, I don’t want to do that to you--” Panic starts to set in, he wants control, he wants to be able to do what he wants, but that’s what Sazed was like, that’s what Sazed did to him and Taako cannot do that to Kravitz because, gods fucking dammit, he’s starting to love Kravitz, and his chest is heaving and he tangles his fingers in his hair and he says, “I don’t, I don’t know, I don’t know what I want, I can’t, you’re so fucking nice, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to deal with someone like you,” and breathing hurts? He can’t catch his breath. He’s hyperventilating, he’s overwhelmed, he can’t think--

Kravitz’s hands close gently over his and pull them slowly from his hair. They’re cool, but not unpleasant, and he stands there, a good foot from Taako, hands clasped around his, and he says, “Taako. Breathe.”

“Can’t.”

“Just--please, Taako. Just try.”

Taako takes a deep breath, and then another. He doesn’t look at Kravitz, just at the ground, or at their hands, and he breathes in and out, in and out, until it’s steady and he feels he is able to look back up at the face of the reaper, haloed in starlight, looking at him with such tender concern it makes Taako’s chest hurt. “Hey,” Taako says.

“Hey,” Kravitz says.

“Sorry I’m a fuckin’ mess,” Taako says.

“You’re fine. I’m glad you’re talking to me about it.”

“Well. Yelling.” Taako half-smiles. It hurts. He stops. “I want to trust you,” he sighs.

“I don’t know how to prove my trustworthiness to you.”

“Well, I let you braid my hair that one time. I think that counts?”

Kravitz smiles. “I hope so.” He looks around, finally seeming to realize that they were still outside. “Do you want to go home?” he asks.

“That sounds like a baller idea.”

Kravitz grins and summons his scythe, spinning it in a flourish before swinging it gracefully through the air to tear a hole in the nothingness. Then he pulls Taako gently through and into Taako’s room.

“Gods, why did you bring us here,” Taako groans. “My room is a fuckin’ mess.”

Kravitz shrugs. “I don’t mind. I thought you’d like to be here. It’s a comfort zone.”

Taako smiles at that. “So it is, Krav. There’s brains somewhere behind that beauty, huh?”

Laughing, Kravitz just squeezes Taako’s hand and vanishes his scythe.

Taako kicks off his heels and pulls his hair out of its up-do, letting his curls fall past his shoulders. “Come on, big boy,” he says, “let’s get our cuddle on like the sappy couples do.” He crawls onto his bed and sprawls out there.

Kravitz just stands there and stares. He can’t help thinking about how beautiful Taako is, how perfect he is, just lying there, smiling, waiting for him.

“Well?” Taako asks. “You coming or are you just going to stand there?”

“Oh.” Kravitz kicks off his shoes and removes his suit jacket, vest, and tie before climbing in beside Taako. He turns on his side so he can look at the elf better, and Taako turns to face him.

“Hi,” Taako says.

“Hi,” Kravitz says. “You okay?”

“Still super drunk. But I, uh. I’m not scared of you.”

“Oh, well. Um. That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Taako says. He looks like he’s going to say something else, and then he stops. And then he starts again. “Look. You’re really fuckin’ handsome, so I’m gonna kiss your face now.”

Kravitz has no objections as Taako kisses him, and he happily kisses back, keeping the soft presses of his own lips gentle. When Taako stops, he’s smiling, and there’s a pretty blush on his high cheekbones. “That was really good,” Taako says. “You’re fuckin’ good at that.”

“Uh. Thanks.” Kravitz hesitates. “Can we do it again?”

“Hell yeah,” Taako laughs, and pulls him back in.

They lie there, making out softly and slowly, and it’s not hot and passionate, just warm and comfortable, and soon he can feel Taako dozing off. The elf stops kissing him and instead snuggles closer to him, pressing his warm body against Kravitz. “Mm,” Taako says sleepily. “We should cuddle more often. You’re just. So nice. And soft.” He pokes lazily at Kravitz’s cheek. “Squishy boy,” he giggles.

“You’re drunk, Taako,” Kravitz laughs.

“Mmm, maybe I am,” Taako sighs, “but at least I’m not a sad drunk tonight.”

“Mostly,” Kravitz adds.

“Not tryin’ to be an angry boy,” Taako whines. His voice is slurring more and more. “Doin’ my best.”

“Of course you are, dear,” Kravitz smiles. He kisses Taako’s forehead. “How about you get some sleep?”

“Mmm. Okay. But… don’t you fuckin’ move. Taako’s comfy.”

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll be here when you wake up.” He kisses Taako one more time, and then he waits, until he can feel Taako’s breathing even out. Only then does he let himself relax, closing his own eyes and, eventually, letting himself enjoy the luxury of falling asleep for the first time in centuries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked it, check out my other fics, as well as my tumblr, @themindofcc! Also shout out to the TAZ Discord folks for their amazing commentary!!!  
> Happy holidays, everyone!!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, sorry about this whole entire chapter. I hope you don't hate me. Come visit me at themindofcc.tumblr.com to shriek about TAZ with me, and don't forget to leave comments/kudos below if you enjoyed this!


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